


Such An Odd Day

by MsCashew



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: ;), As I don't want to spoil it and keep you guessing, Cabin Pressure Prompt Meme, Drunk Texting, I don't want to mark it as a crossover though, Loving Pilots, M/M, Morning Sex, Nor say what it crossovers with, Praise Kink, Prompt Fic, Sex, Size Difference, Sweet Sex, drunk Martin, marlas, nervous martin, slight crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-10-29 05:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10847028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsCashew/pseuds/MsCashew
Summary: A few drinks the night before lead Martin to a very confusing day. . .





	1. A Few Drinks...

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt was originally from the [Cabin Pressure Prompt meme](http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/4885.html?thread=8541461#cmt8541461) long ago (I started it long ago, actually D: ). It doesn't exactly fit (it does and doesn't >.>; ), so I thought I would post it over here. UwU
> 
> But yeah. I don't think it'll be a very long fic, but a good amount. :)
> 
> I do so hope you enjoy!
> 
> ❤

Why didn't he ask Douglas out like he had planned?!

He was calmly going to wait until Carolyn had gone into her office, and while Arthur was hoovering GERT-I to do it. . .

Instead of Douglas entering the portacabin like after every other trip; he found himself face to face with Arthur instead, nearly slamming into him as he went to the door to see if Douglas was making his way in yet.

"Arthur! What? -" he takes a deep breath before he completely has a panic attack. . . , "Wasn't, wasn't Douglas on his way in?"

"Oh. Well, no. After driving GERT-I in, he had to run. He has his daughters tomorrow for the day and wanted to be ready tonight. So mum says, anyway. He seemed really excited about it, even if he didn't especially show it. You could see it when he kept smiling on and off all day long," He says with a bright smile, Martin just staring at him, “Don’t worry, Skipper, you can ask him tomorrow.”

"Oh God!" Is all Martin can think to say, taking his captain's cap off to hold at his side as he made a quick dash toward the carpark, running at high speed to the usual spot Douglas parked, not paying any mind to Arthur’s last thought.

He was right there, _right there_  ready to ask his first officer out to a nice (and reasonably priced) cafe he had discovered on one of his moving jobs, the words on the tip of his tongue when something entirely different came out:

"W-Would you like to, I-I mean, go on, a. . . a-a. . . _**mint**_?" The last word had squeaked out, this getting a very high raised eyebrow accompanied by a little sarcastic remark.

"You ran all the way across the carpark to ask me if I wanted a _mint_?"

"T-They're from. . . Germany?" He squeaks again, his face growing hotter by the second as Douglas' other eyebrow joined the first, both moving further toward his hairline as Martin stood there, feeling his face must be as red as a beet by then.

"Alright, since _sir_ is so concerned over the state of my mouth, I'll bite. Yes, I would absolutely _love_ a mint from the most glorious **_sir_ ** as he is offering."

All Martin could do in that moment was take the tin out of his trouser pocket, fumbling with opening the small box, cheeks feeling hot as he offered the small container to his first officer.

Plucking the mint from Martin's tin; he sticks his tongue out, plopping the mint right on the tip, the act of him sliding his tongue back into his tempting mouth being far more gratuitous to Martin than it honestly should be.

"Thank you sir for that most scrumptious mint. I don't know how my evening would have gone otherwise had I not had such a mint." He smirks slightly, sliding into his car, giving Martin a little wave before he closes his door,

"See you tomorrow, sir. Have a grand evening."

So, instead of having a nice, cozy, delicious dinner with Douglas, here he was again, sitting in his attic at Parkside Terrace, running over his flight simulator with a luke warm Tikka Masala Pot Noodle (he wasn't even sure they still made the flavor any longer).

He deeply sighs, pushing the noodles away, the flight ultimately crashing, he not minding one bit.

“Why can’t I ask him out?!” He grumbles, running his hands through his ginger locks roughly, slightly tugging, “I know he has an interest in the, the same sex, what with his time with Milo and all.” He sighs again, leaning back far in his chair, staring up at the pointed ceiling of his attic, biting his lip in thought.

“Even so . . . Would he honestly have any interest in me? I’m. . . I’m just . . . _Me_. That’s. . . That’s not much.” He murmurs, leaning back further, nearly falling backwards, squawking in surprise.

Growling in frustration as he rights himself, ruffling his hair furiously; he suddenly stands, pacing in his small room quickly before he rashly takes to the stairs, making his way to the shared kitchen on the first floor, thankful the students of the house were on break, not occupying their residence at the moment.

Roughly opening the fridge, he takes out the few beers that sat there, knowing full well this was most likely a not very good idea.

But he just wanted to forget a little bit. Just. . . Just for a little while.

Making his way back to the attic; he sets the bottles on his bedside table, eyes boring into the amber bottles for a moment, his mind buzzing lightly as he lifts the heavy bottle.

The bottle is cold in his hand, condensation running slowly over his fingers . . .

He twists open the bottle, immediately taking a long, drawn out swig, coughing lightly afterwards, shaking his head lightly at the immediate slight buzz he felt, thinking it odd that it hit so quickly.

“Huh . . . Is this a new brand?” He thinks aloud, staring at the bottle, the label being the same as always.

He ultimately just shrugs his shoulders, finishing the first bottle quickly, right away opening a second, and soon after that, a third.

It was half way through the fifth bottle that he was laying on the floor, smiling stupidly, ‘Queen’ softly playing from his old computer.

“. . . Traveling at the thpeed of liiight. . .” he mumbles along in a slight lisp, giggling, stumbling to a sitting position, taking another deep drink from the bottle, looking around his room, not knowing why.

Then, he spots why.

His phone.

“Wonder, wonder what Douglath ith up to?” He slurs, dragging himself to his feet, scooping up his phone from his desk; he plops down onto his bed heavily, his back hitting hard, uttering a light, ‘Oomph!’ as he does.

He brings his phone close to his face, squinting at the screen as he types out quickly,

_“Whatklej aree you up two?”_

He hits send, phone falling on his face, grumbling deeply in annoyance.

The phone vibrates on his face, the blurred response being simply,

_**“Not much. . . Just baking up a cake.”** _

Martin grins, responding back with,

_“I would lick this cakeee."_

It takes a moment for another response,

_**“. . . Do you mean ‘like', mon capitaine?"** _

_“that two ;D"_

Martin decides to quickly add,

_“we can sahre it",_

_“twoGether",_

_“in bed"_

Oh, how clever was he???

_**“Are you alright?"** _

He nearly misses Douglas' reply, another coming in quickly after that,

_**“Do you need me to come over?"** _

Martin quickly answers back,

_“Gawd, yes! Bring teh cakee!"_

Martin waits patiently, biting his lip, nearly . . . almost aroused at the prospect of sharing a cake with Douglas in bed.

_**“. . . Have you been drinking?"** _

_“Yes!"_ He almost proudly responds, grinning, squirming lightly at thinking of Douglas on his bed with him.

_**“. . . I'm coming over. Don't do anything stupid!"** _

_“ill be waiting! ;) <3“_

He smiles happily up at the ceiling, nodding his head to the music, not remembering much after that. . .

.  
..  
...  
....  
.....  
....  
...  
..  
.

He awakes the following morning feeling warm, feeling secure, feeling. . . Safe. He felt good, brilliant, in fact, even if he had a slight headache.

Turning around in the arms that were wrapped securely around him; he snuggles in closer, snuffling the slightest bit into the broad, fuzzy chest. . .

Wait a minute. . .

He didn't remember falling asleep with anyone. . .

He certainly didn't remember going to bed _nude_ with anyone either. . .

He cautiously opens his eyes, looking up slowly to see who he would find.

What he found were warm, chocolate brown eyes looking at him fondly, feeling the arms around him tighten the slightest bit.

"Mm, morning, darling." A tad of a rough, sleep laden tone falls from his mouth, said mouth leaning down, feeling those lips press gently into his hair in a light kiss, feeling himself flush deeply from the warm, loving touch. . .

"D-Douglas?"


	2. A Few Kisses. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin has questions, Douglas has kisses. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where it gets a little steamy, folks. Just to warn you. ;) ❤ . . .

“Yes?” Was all Douglas replied quietly with, the smallest smile remaining on his lips, the warm light of early morning that seeped in from the windows making Douglas absolutely glow.

How was Martin supposed to respond? What on earth did he do last night-,

What on earth did _**they** _ do last night?!

“You’re unusually tongue tied this morning, sir,” Douglas teases, one hand beginning to play with Martin’s hair in a light caress, the other stroking down his back, the touch making Martin shiver pleasantly with such a firm touch,

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Um . . . Hello?” Was all Martin could think to say, Douglas chuckling warmly, the sound filling Martin with warmth, making him smile in turn.

“Hello yourself," He smiles wider, that hand still running up and down Martin’s back, “Did you have an odd dream, or something? You seem a tad bit off.”

Martin couldn’t think of a response as it suddenly just hits him like a truck:

This wasn’t his room. This, this wasn’t his bed, this wasn’t his duvet . . How? When?! . . . This wasn’t his room!

His eyes wander around quickly, noting the grand windows on Douglas’ side, the antique wardrobe in the corner, the rather large bed they occupied. . .

How was this possible?!

Lost in thought; he didn’t take notice of Douglas leaning in close until he felt Douglas’ large hand on his cheek, gasping at finding him so close, lost for words at seeing such emotion lining his features, this emotion seemingly directed at him.

“I know what it is. Did you think I’d forget?" His thumb caresses Martin’s speckled cheek for but a moment, soon uttering with such a love filled tone, “Happy anniversary, Martin.” Douglas murmurs so sweetly, his lips pressing to Martin’s firmly in a gentle touch. Martin’s breath catching at the contact of Douglas’ lips on his own.

He was kissing him. Douglas was actually _kissing_ him! **Him**! **Martin** _ **Crieff**_!

He whimpers, being slightly caught up in Douglas actually kissing him when what Douglas had said finally caught up to him: _Anniversary_.

He breaks away with the slightest bit of reluctance, staring into Douglas’ eyes, gasping lightly at seeing such a shine of love in them. How could that sort of look be directed towards him?

“A-Anniversary?” He asks, looking toward his copilot’s bare shoulder, wondering when he had put his hand there, when exactly he had began caressing it so carefully with this thumb. His thumb quickly stops its caressing when he realizes Douglas must be nude right along with him, feeling his face go hot to unimaginable degrees.

“Oh, Martin! Don’t tell me you forgot. I would think the end of the world was nigh if you honestly forgot such a day.” Douglas looks positively devastated at this news, Martin not being able to take such a look, not thinking he would ever see such an expression on Douglas.

“Of, of course not, um, uh - dear! No, never would I forget such a thing! I just . . . I-I feel a bit off this morning.” His answer comes out quietly, sighing at seeing his answer put that warm, affectionate smile back on Douglas’ face.

“. . . You do look a tad peaky,” Douglas murmurs after a second, going in to nuzzle at Martin’s temple lightly, Martin feeling a gentle kiss pressed there, a murmur of, “You look thin as well, how did I not notice a weight loss?” accompanying the soft press of lips soon before the man above him pulls away,

“Hmm, you don’t feel warm, so that’s a plus. Wouldn’t want you sick today.”

“On, on our anniversary.” Martin says again, still questioning what exactly Douglas meant.

“Yes, on our anniversary. Good job, Martin.” Douglas quirks his eyebrow, his tone slightly sarcastic.

“Well, excuse me for questioning things after last night-" he abruptly stops, suddenly remembering, remembering cake. . . Licking? . . . Oh. Oh, he was . . . Was drunk texting. . . Douglas,

“What, what happened last night?"

To Martin’s surprise, Douglas was calm, his hands keeping busy on Martin, rubbing lightly, touching sweetly; it was terribly distracting.

“Oh, the usual,” Was Douglas’ response, Martin wondering what on earth that meant?!, “You were unusually handsy, I will give you that.” Douglas smirks, leaning down, placing a kiss on Martin’s collar bone, all thought being erased from Martin’s mind as he gasps, arms instinctively wrapping around Douglas’ shoulders at the gesture.

Douglas seems to take this as an invitation, continuing on kissing Martin’s neck, his shoulder, his cheek, ultimately returning to Martin’s lips, kissing him deeply, soundly.

Martin just squeezes Douglas tighter, feeling Douglas hum against his lips as his top half rolls more on top of Martin.

“Oh!” Martin moans lightly at the new weight on his person, grasping at Douglas, wanting more.

Douglas seems to know, tongue joining Martin’s, that broad hand of his running down Martin’s side in a sturdy pet, landing on his hip, fingers kneading where they lay.

Martin was dizzy with such affection, all this attention from Douglas; he couldn’t help becoming excited.

“Mmm,” Douglas hums away from Martin’s lips, he chasing after, failing in his attempt, breathing heavily as he falls back to the lush pillow beneath,

“Interested? Again?” He teases warmly, “You’re usually spent for at least the following morning when you come the previous night. . . _Twice_.” He grins, Martin remaining speechless as Douglas leans down once again, kissing him deeper, Martin’s arms wrapping even tighter, one hand timidly making it’s way into Douglas’ hair.

Oh, his hair. His hair! God, how many times had he thought of just running his hands through Douglas’ hair?!

A long moment passes with kisses, touches, hands exploring every which way until Douglas pulls away again, an impish smirk spreading across his handsome face.

He kisses right at the base of Martin’s neck, kissing down his lightly fuzzed chest, his belly. He gives him one last grin before disappearing under the duvet, Martin feeling his kisses lowering down to his thighs, feeling a light nip that made him jump, gasping as he feels Douglas move to his other thigh, a light bite and gentle sucking making him bite his lip.

He soon feels those lips ghost across his thigh inward, instinctively spreading his legs as he feels Douglas’ soft lips press against the underside of his hardening cock, this making him moan out a surprised squeak.

It soon turns into a low groan of want as Douglas’ mouth gently envelops the head, sucking so very softly at first, Martin feeling a distinct tongue swipe the slit, making Martin thrust into that warm, delectable mouth.

“Oh, oh Douglas, yes. . .” He pants quietly, eyes clenching tightly shut. His hands wander under the duvet, wanting to run his fingers through that salt and pepper hair once again.

They make it to their destination, almost shyly running his fingers through the greying locks. One hand ran to the nape of his neck, almost petting the soft hair that lay there, the other made a home in Douglas’ fringe, hand lightly tugging, Douglas seeming to hum in appreciation.

He opens his eyes, surprised to see Douglas. His wandering hands most likely having pushed the covers down.

What lays before him, he can’t help but moan at: Douglas’ lips, around the tip of his cock, bobbing up and down so slowly, moving further each time he went downward, Martin not helping but let a whimper fall from his mouth at such a sight before him.

Then, **then** , he feels the absolute lightest scrape of teeth on the underside of his member, gasping loudly, not being able to help but thrust. Thankfully, Douglas seemed ready, his hands having had a nice grip on Martin’s hips.

Oh, oh, he was already so close. So. _Close_.

But he didn’t want to come so quickly. This, this is their first time (that he could remember, anyway)!

“D-Douglas?” He calls softly in urgency, his first officer stopping right away, sliding off Martin’s cock with an obscene pop.

Douglas’ eyes were half lidded, dark. His cheeks tinted pink as he panted.

Martin couldn’t help himself: He reaches for Douglas, pawing at his shoulders until Douglas took the hint, Martin pulling him up towards him until the older pilot was above him.

Martin kisses him sort of roughly, hands ruffling his hair, tongues moving together so nicely, Douglas humming deeply in their kiss, his burley body now resting delicately in a reassuring way on Martin’s lithe form.

“Douglas,” He pants softly against his lips, nails scratching lightly on Douglas’ scalp, “I-I want you to come with me. Please?”

“Oh Martin, I don’t know if we have time.” He says in a soft groan, pressing his very hard (very impressive) member against the dip above Martin’s thigh.

“Please? Please come with me. I-I want you to so much. . .”

“Alright, alright,” He kisses Martin firmly, arms caging him in momentarily,

“Part your legs, darling. . .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave it on a titch of a cliffhanger. I just don't want the chapters to run on too long and thought that would be a good stopping point. :)
> 
> Also! I want to add that Martin and Douglas didn't have sex while Martin was drunk. If they did, I would have tagged it. *nods in a very serious Arthur way*
> 
> But what happened?! It will all come together, worry not. :)
> 
> Anyhoo, I do so hope you all enjoyed this second chapter. UwU
> 
> ❤❤❤


	3. A Few Moments. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden realization. . .

Martin draws in a sharp breath at Douglas’ request, he automatically spreading his legs. Was he? Was he going to. . .?

No. No of course not, Martin realizes with a deep blush when Douglas shuffles between his legs, holding himself closely above him as he lines their cocks and takes them both in his large hand.

He gives one, two, three slow deliberate strokes, their pre-come and Douglas’ saliva from before making the way so nice, Martin merely giving a soft groan of appreciation at the wonderful feeling.

“Oh, I’ll never get tired of how you feel, darling.” Douglas sighs as he leans more of his weight on Martin, thrusting slowly in his hand alongside Martin, his other resting above on the pillow, he looking down at Martin with such affection lining his features.

What did Martin do to deserve this, he wondered. What in the world could he have possibly done to be here, right now, with this man on top of him so carefully, touching him so nicely, so sweetly, in such a, a wonderful way?

Douglas continues with his careful movements for a little while, both kissing the other sweetly, deeply, Martin’s hands continuously running up and down and around every which way on Douglas, just wanting to feel him any which way he could.

Martin soon stops his slight wiggling he had been doing and starts to outright thrust slowly against Douglas’ cock, an appreciative hum sounding from Douglas against his lips.

“Oh, Martin. Yes. Just like that,” Martin flushes at Douglas’ groan, Douglas going in to kissing at Martin’s throat, his stroking picking up the pace, both panting at the new speed,

“God, Martin. My lovely, _beautiful_ Martin. You’re doing so well.” Martin just flushes deeper, arching into Douglas. His words, his sweet words; what things they did to Martin.

Things just continue to pick up from there.

Kisses became rougher, nails began to scratch, moans accompanied by groans grew in volume, very nearly most from Martin, Douglas kissing him harder at those times, seeming to not want Martin to be too loud.

Martin just couldn’t help it. This, _this_ , was more than he could have ever possibly imagined in his wildest dreams. Douglas’ touch was so much more gentler and firmer, than he thought it would be. Douglas’ kisses, oh . . . So much more sweet and wonderful.

It was far too much for Martin to handle both physically and somewhat mentally.

Here he was, in these arms he had thought of for far too long. How many times had he thought of just being held by them? How often had he thought of gripping onto them in the throws of love making? How often had he dreamed of just . . . Of just Douglas. Being with him. Being near him, being his?

Now he was, whether it being from a, a drunken night or, or. . . Something that Martin didn’t understand. He was here. Right here where he had hoped to be so many times.

It was indescribable.

“Douglas, oh, Douglas, close. I-I’m close. So close.” He rumbles after a short time, his fingernails digging further into Douglas back, his first officer responding back with an even deeper grumble of a groan, his hand moving off both of them, now focusing on just Martin’s swollen member.

“God, you are, aren’t you?” He looks on him with such affection bloomed over his features, that handsome face nuzzling into Martin’s neck, suckling, kissing, giving him soft a bite, making Martin arch terribly into Douglas,

“Why not come for me? Oh Martin, my gorgeous Martin,” He continues focusing on his neck, his stroking just firm enough on Martin’s cock, the captain soon feeling Douglas own girthy cock grinding firmly into the dip above his thigh,

“Love seeing you come for me, love seeing you come so hard. God, I love being able to do so for you, love how gorgeous you are underneath me when you lose control.”

Good Lord in Heaven, how on Earth was Martin still even alive after Douglas’ dirty talk?!

“Oh, oh yes, yes! Please!”

“Yes, you’re right there. You’re right there, I know, darling,” he groans deeply, his stroking becoming a bit faster, his own thrusts against Martin faultering into a slightly jumbled mess,

“Yes, that’s it, that’s right, my darling. You’re going to come so hard, I know it, my sweet heart,” Oh, what Douglas was saying, God, he was so close, so close, just a little more,

“There we go, come for me, my darling. . . Come for me, my love.”

. . .

. . . My. . . _Love_?

Martin’s eyes widen in shock, his orgasm positively bursting forth, arching terribly into Douglas with a loud cry, though it being cut short as Douglas covers his mouth with his in a hard kiss, feeling warmth spreading over his groin, his belly, over Douglas’ hand. . . He soon feeling another warmth entirely sprout from his eyes. He breaks off his kiss with Douglas with a gasp, burrowing his face into the crook of Douglas’ neck as his now (old?) lover strokes him through the most powerful orgasm he had had in a very long while.

It doesn’t take much longer for Douglas to come. He strokes on until Martin is near completely soft, only taking his hand away when Martin shudders in over sensitivity. Martin feels Douglas give himself two or three (possibly four) brisk strokes to his own cock, Martin feeling an added warmth streak onto his stomach, a rough moan of ‘ _Martin..._ ’ accompanying the warm splatter on his belly.

Douglas flops closely to Martin’s side, Martin not really letting go as Douglas pants for a moment.

“Christ,” Douglas breaks the silence, hand moving over to tenderly knead Martin’s bony hip, “You haven’t been that vocal for a long while. Why. . .” His words drift off, that hand on Martin’s hip moving to his back, pulling him in tight, Martin noticing that he was trying to look at him,

“Martin. . . Are you crying?”

“N-No.” He answers feebly with a sniff, nuzzling even closer to the safety that was Douglas’ neck and shoulder, not being able to look him in the eye.

“Hey now, hey. . .It’s alright,” His soft voice only furthers Martin’s crying, feeling he wouldn’t be able to stop any time soon, “It’s fine, my love. Shh, it’s fine, darling. It’s fine.” He coos in that soothing voice, Martin now knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop for a good little while.

Douglas just waits, holding him tight, Martin feeling kisses here and there in his hair as that broad hand of Douglas’ made soothing, soft swipes gently up and down his back, murmurs of love making it’s way in here and there.

“. . . You love me.” Martin manages to say after long moments of comforting from Douglas, feeling tears still streaking lightly down his most likely beet red face.

Douglas’ hand that made such soothing motions on his back makes its way to Martin’s chin, gingerly lifting his face toward his, a look of worry, and dare Martin think, love, etched clearly across his face,

“Of course I love you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” He smiles in a sweet tease, immediately placing a tender kiss onto Martin’s lips, pulling back only very slightly, lips still grazing Martin’s, looking back into his eyes, “I love you,” he murmurs against his lips, kissing him again, “I love you,” He says softly again, kissing him even deeper now, “I love you. So very much, Martin.” He finishes with the most loving smile Martin had ever seen anyone give, he gently wiping away a tear or two, furthering giving comfort to Martin with the simple gesture.

Martin has no words and is only able to nuzzle right back in, hugging him tighter than tight, Douglas hugging him just as tightly back. . .

* * *

Eventually, Douglas was able to coax Martin out of bed, leading him to the shower fairly soon after that, offering Martin (with the sweetest smile) if he’d like for him to join Martin.

Martin was only able to nod with a shy smile, Douglas placing another sweet kiss on his lips.

After that shared shower together of soaping one another up that included many loving kisses and sweet touches from Douglas; Martin is sitting on the bed, draped in a towel, wondering what he would throw on, not finding any sort of garment that belonged to him anywhere.

Douglas emerges from the bathroom, damp hair, clean shaven, in a pair of boxers and button up himself.

“You’re not dressed yet.” He states, hands on hips, eyebrow cocked.

“Um, well, I-I don’t. . .”

Before he finishes his thought; Douglas has moved over to the wardrobe, the doors creaking open as they swing apart.

He pulls out a pair of jeans and a jumper, soon rumaging in the top drawer of a dresser Martin just notices across the room, pulling out a pair of boxers, moving back over to Martin and placing the garments on the bed, giving Martin’s temple a quick peck,

“Did I forget to tell you I did laundry? Sorry, dear,” he casually comments, back at the wardrobe, pulling a pair of trousers on himself, draping a cardigan over his arm,

“I’ll go and get breakfast started, shall I? Don’t be too long, mon amour.” With that, he was out the bedroom door.

Martin just sat there, frozen, staring off at the wardrobe.

Why in the world would Douglas be doing his laundry?

Wait. . .

Why in the world would Martin’s clothes be in Douglas’ wardrobe??!

Bounding toward the wardrobe, not minding the towel; he tears the doors open, surprised at what he finds:

His clothes. Some of them, anyway, accompanied by newer items on one side that seemed to be to his taste, finding many of what he could only assume were Douglas’ garments on the other. . .

Taking a step back, just staring at the clothe filled shelves; the back of his knees hit the bed, falling back with a ‘fwump’.

Why. . . Why were his clothes here?!

He ruffles his hair, holding his head for a moment. This. . . This didn’t make any sense.

He couldn’t very well just sit here, barely a towel on his person. With a deep sigh, he looks amongst the bed for the clothes Douglas had taken out for him when a picture on the bedside table catches his eye:

It was him and. . . And Douglas.

He scooches over, finding that they both were dressed up in matching suits, a deep blue orchid pinned to both their lapels.

They both looked. . . Maddeningly in love, both sets of eyes on one another, not paying any mind to whom ever was taking the photo. . . They both also had. . .

“Rings?” Martin murmurs, ruffling his hair in thought once again as his eyes blindly study the top of the table when he notices said gold ring there, shining in a small dish along with his father’s signet ring.

Taking it up without really thinking; he looks it over, noting words on the inside band as the gold glitters in the early morning sun. . .

_‘Come fly with me. . .’_

Wait. . .

Rings? He waking up in Douglas’ bed? Clothes that were obviously his? . . . It was their anniversary today??!

“Are we . . . _**Married**_?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo, m'dears! Sorry for such a long wait. Real life is. . . Blargh sometimes, you know? :(
> 
> But anyway. . . Are they - *audible gasp!* married?! D: . . .Probably. ;) But why? How? Is Martin having some sort of dream?! You'll just have to wait. 
> 
> I'm sorry. I hope this chapter was good. There won't be any adult tomfoolery for a while, so for those that that isn't their cup of tea; there you be. :D ❤
> 
> But yes! Next chapter is coming along and will hopefully be up sooner rather than later.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Hearts,  
> Me.  
> ❤


End file.
